Roland Gift returns

Roland Gift was cool in the 80s, disappeared in the 90s and now he shoots goats in the Coromandel - when he's not reviving his music career. GARTH CARTWRIGHT reports.

The hairline may have thinned and jowls superseded cheekbones, yet even at a distance, 39-year-old Roland Gift remains instantly recognisable. And when he sings the years peel away: no one has ever sounded quite like him.

At the start of 1990 he was lead singer of the Fine Young Cannibals and among the hottest young British actors. FYC's 1989 album The Raw & The Cooked launched them into the superstar league, shifting five million copies and scoring two United States number one singles. Gift's performances in the films Scandal and Sammy and Rosie Get Laid made him an icon of contemporary London cool.

Indeed, look back on the late 80s and Gift appears to be the London face, undeniably hip, witty and wise. All of which brings us to the obvious question: where has Roland Gift been for the past decade?

"I guess the mistakes started when we as a band shifted to New York in 1990," says Gift with the diffidence of someone aware that his re-entry into public life is going to rely on explaining a long absence.

He goes on to suggest that NYC distracted FYC to death. They had made their first album in Birmingham. Their second in London. A new city seemed a good idea. Several years later, after much wasted time in recording studios, the truth dawned that New York was not for them. And by then none of the band members were on speaking terms. So in 1996 one of the premier British bands of the 1980s dissolved without so much as a whisper.

Gift's continued absence across the 90s sparked speculation in some quarters that he had done a Lord Lucan. Buying a farm in New Zealand only fuelled the myth that he had left London and music for an epic Good Life scenario. Gift laughs.

"Yes, I do own a farm in New Zealand. It's in the Coromandel, which is very beautiful, but I don't actually spend much time there. I pop in for a visit, go goat hunting, then leave. To be honest, since returning from New York I've been based in north London. I did try and leave London twice but that was only to see if I could live in Hull again, and I finally realised I couldn't."

Raising children has kept Gift busy. He tried to record a solo album in 1997 only to find the record label for which Fine Young Cannibals had made so much money cancelled his contract the day before he entered the studio.

"That was a bit of a blow, but now I realise it was fortunate, as my new songs are much stronger than the ones I had written for that album."

Two years ago Gift played a series of British regional dates. The response was strong enough to make him chase a new record deal. The result is Roland Gift. He has not lost his knack for a pop hit, and the album's first single, It's Only Money, is as catchy as anything he has put his name to.

"The desire to make music has never left me," says Gift in a quiet, firm voice. "Otis Redding has always been my benchmark for what you should strive for when making music. Ever since I first heard Otis I've wanted to make music that conveyed that kind of conviction and passion. For this album I sat down with an acoustic guitar and wrote songs for the first time. I've never really had the confidence to do that before."

Gift is unsure whether the public are willing to embrace him again. His 1980s success appeared almost too easy. He notes that his first film-acting job came before he'd joined Equity, and even the singing came about as a bit of a mistake: he was playing sax in a Hull band and singing the occasional song when a local promoter suggested the band make Gift vocalist "because I had a different sounding voice".

Now he realises that some hard graft may be needed. But he's serious.

"We made a great deal of money with the Cannibals in a short time and, in a way, it ruined us. I'm not complaining, it's allowed me the freedom to not have to work. But as a band we suddenly became obsessed with writing bigger hits, selling more than five million copies of the next album ... stupid stuff, really. We lost the sense of making music because we enjoyed it, and this album is very much about me enjoying making music."

The film industry has come calling again, too. While in New York Gift turned down all offers as he concentrated on the impossible task of holding Fine Young Cannibals together. Crawling from the wreckage of the band, he found the phone had stopped ringing. Only Michie Gleason, a young director, kept after him. For several years she had promised Gift the lead in a film she wanted to direct.

The financing finally came through last year just as Gift entered the studio to start recording. He put the album on hold and made the film, The Island of the Mapmaker's Wife, then returned to the studio.

"It's funny," says Gift, a smile playing across his inscrutable features, "after years of inactivity I'm suddenly making music and acting again. Must be something to do with timing. It all feels right, too."

* Roland Gift is out now.